Frailty
by Pockets Full of Sunshine
Summary: Kenshin and Tomoe. Kenshin's a lot younger than he is in the actual manga/anime/OVA to the point that it's somewhat sick, but it was the only way these oneshots worked. Modern. Slight OOC. A series of them. R
1. Frailty

This goes directly with the crossover Assimilation I've written, but it can be read on it's own. The age is completely and utterly fucked up to those who haven't read Assimilation. Tomoe and Kenshin, none romantic. Enjoy. As stated, may seem strange to anyone who hasn't read the crossover. Modern, so slightly AU I suppose.

I don't own RK.

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Frailty

Tomoe woke up to hear a soft murmur of pain. Like her both her mother and her father, she'd always been a light sleeper, so it was easy to wake her up in the middle of the night. She sat up, vaguely confused, because there was only one person who could move around without pulling her out of dreamland and the sound must have come from him. Odd. Stifling a yawn, she pulled herself out of bed and left the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she entered her "son's" room, where he sat upright against the wall, sword against his shoulder like usual. His head was buried into his knees and she could see that the small hand clutching the sword was almost white.

He lifted his head, but winced immediately afterwards. In answer, he shook his head, giving her a silent _Nothing_, causing him to flinch in pain again. With a small sigh, she walked over and sat down across from him.

"Does your head hurt?" she said. His breathing sounded a little labored, but quiet. Everything about him was quiet. She reached her hand over and placed her hand to his forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever…" He shrugged. He was trying not to shake.

Wondering if he'd kill her for doing this, she scooted herself over so that she was next to him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. For a moment, he tensed, then relaxed. She gave a soft smile; maybe they'd gotten so used to playing the part of mother and child that it was no longer a part to play. A sad truth, she supposed.

"Sorry for—" He broke himself off and she felt a quiver go up his entire body. He made another soft sound of pain. Then he relaxed again. "Waking you," he finished.

"Don't worry," she answered, stopping herself from saying 'darling' as she often did in town. "It's fine." There was a long silence, broken only occasionally by the crickets on the windowsill outside, their breathing, and his random, stifled cries of pain. Whatever was happening was bad. "Where does it hurt?"

"My temples," he answered quietly. "The top of my head…above my nose."

Tomoe looked down at the top of the small boy's head, to his messy red hair, and it occurred to her that this was just a small boy eleven. This short, skinny, eleven-year-old boy was the Battousai, the most feared killer in all of Japan—hell, the entire world. He'd killed her fiancé and she'd come to take her revenge. But then…seeing him at times like this, she found herself wondering if she could do that. Could she really kill a frail little boy, even if he'd killed so many others? And now to think that she had her arm around him, holding him as he tried not to cry. It would be the perfect moment to end him, but she couldn't do it. It may have only been a month, but he was her son. It was no longer make-believe.

And she loved him.

Inwardly, she sighed. "That sounds a bit like a sinuous infection," she said. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"No…"

"Or a migraine. Can you see clearly?"

"Not really…" That fact that he was resorting to talk worried her; normally he'd just nod or shake his head. "Damn it."

"Don't swear," she said on instinct, used to reprimanding her little brother who was only a year or so older than Kenshin, now that she thought about it. She heard a weak laugh. "Do you feel nauseous? Be honest."

"A little…"

She pulled him closer. He moved into her touch. It was a bit of a surprise. She reached over and pulled the katana from his hand. There was no complaint—all he did was grip his knees instead. "I'll get some Advil in a moment. How often do you get these?"

"Every once in a while." Which for him meant often. She wondered how many she missed. "It-it's never been this bad on a normal day before."

Normal day…? Well, he was venerable and she'd use it against him to get answers, just like any mother would. Any mother. What a funny thought. By now it was hard to believe that he wasn't her child—though she supposed that was a good thing, since she would have been sixteen when she had him. When they came here they'd lied, saying that he was ten and she was thirty-two, making it more believable. It worked too, so Tomoe sometimes wondered if she should be insulted that someone thought her nearly five years old than she actually was.

"What's an abnormal day?" she asked. They were both talking more than they usually did. "When do you normally get them?"

That same quiver went through his body again and he made a small scream that he'd been trying to force down. Her heart broke, just a little. No. When the time arose, she'd tell _them _that she could no longer do it and that they'd need to get through her to get to him. Hard to believe it…he'd taken away the love of her life and given her a new one, a new way to love someone. She'd been sent to befriend and betray him, but now she was planning on protecting him as his parent, a parent she doubted he ever had.

"After I kill someone." A shiver went up her spine. "My-my eyes change color apparently. When they go back, the headache starts. But I didn't kill anyone today, so-so—" He made that little strangled scream again.

"Shh…it's okay. I'll go get the Advi—"

"No!" he said, surprising her. He went to go move his head up to look at her, but didn't even move it a fraction of an inch before he made that sound again. It broke her heart to see him like this and she hadn't known there was anything left to break. "Stay here, please…"

"I'm here, Kenshin," she whispered, placing her head onto of his and holding him more tightly. "I won't leave. When the pain goes down, then I'll go get it."

"O-okay." The two fell silent.

Maybe she'd changed her views on the human heart. When her Kiyosato died, she thought the heart could only shatter once and never be mended. But she supposed that's what helplessness did to a person. But now she knew better—the human heart was more like glass. When it broke, all it did was turn back to the finest bits of sand it was created from. And then when it healed, the sand built itself back up to form anew. All it needed was a glass-blower. Apparently Kenshin was hers. His breathing continued to come out as if he needed to force it.

"Can you move?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Here, I'll help you."

After a moment or so of waiting for an answer and receiving none, she removed her arm from his shoulders and stood. She reached out her hand to help him and he grabbed it, with a grip less secure than usual. Then she pulled him up. He winced immediately from the pain and stumbled forward. Her arm went out and she caught him, the same way he caught her on the first night they meant in the rain he made bleed. The same umbrella she'd stood under was leaning on the wall next to their front door. The body in arms was so light it was like she holding nothing.

"Come with me, we'll go to the kitchen," she said as he composed himself. Now he was shaking nonstop. Another grain of sand fell. She sat him in a chair and went to put on the lights, but lowered her hand. That would only make it worse. "Is your vision still blurry?"

"Y-yeah," he answered.

Glancing back, she noticed that his eyes really were slightly unfocused and she had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time she'd see that look, that hopeless, hopeless gaze. She filled a glass of water and removed two pills from the bottle. If the headache weren't as bad as it was, then she would've only given him one. He didn't look like he weighed enough for much more.

"Take these, you'll feel better." With a quivering hand, he took the pills and the water (she kept the glass partially in her own hand, too). He swallowed them and made a face of distaste. "What, haven't you ever taken pills before?"

"Once," he answered. "When I was nine and had the flu."

Tomoe sighed. "Well, if you feel a headache starting, the Advil is here on the counter. At most take two, but only one should be enough most of the time. You'll feel better in about fifteen minutes. Let's just…stay here for now."

She pulled up a chair next to him and once again hugged him, this time with both arms. He deserved it.

"Thanks," he said in a small voice, putting his head on her shoulder. His skin was pale and his body still shaking. It really did look like he had a fever. She was slightly surprised he didn't.

"And you're welcome," she answered and just because she needed to hear herself say it, she found herself adding, "Darling." Again, he laughed weakly. There was a short silence. "Where's your family?" She wasn't quite sure where the question came from, but it came anyway.

"You're my family, Tomoe," he answered and she smiled. Another smile silence. "I don't have a real family. I haven't since I was five. Did you?"

Her heart beat rapidly. "I had a brother, Enishi," she said. "And a father and I was soon to be wed, but the man died." _By your hands, my love. I'm so sorry. _"Do you feel any better?"

"I'm starting to…I can move now."

"Come on, then." She let go of him and grabbed his hand again. He didn't stumble this time. Together they walked back to his room. When she was his age, her mother was still kissing her goodnight. Now at that same age, he was suffering from headaches every time he killed. It was a sick world they lived in. "You should probably lie down rather than sit when you sleep."

"I can't." The answer came immediately. "I can't sleep lying down."

For what seemed the hundredth time that night, she sighed. Sometimes she wondered what others would think of if they saw this—saw her helping the deadly Battousai with a headache and talking to him about sleeping and family. The others in the resistance movement would be shocked to see Kenshin acting like someone his own age, smiling and occasionally laughing, something he only did for her. Never for someone else. Her family would just be confused to see that she'd "adopted" a child and she wondered if her brother might feel a little betrayed to see she could love someone else. Anyone else in town might find it a little odd that he called her by her given name.

"Go to sleep," she said. "It'll be better in the morning."

"Okay." Suddenly, an overwhelming feeling came over and she wrapped her arms around him. Kenshin didn't stiffen like she expected him to do, but he didn't hug back either. This little boy…this poor, sick, little boy whose hands were stained with the blood of thousands….she couldn't kill him. It almost hurt her, knowing that at one time she'd been prepared to. She never expected to love him like this. It was just so strange.

When she kissed the top of his head, he jumped. "Goodnight," she said, releasing him. "I'll see you in the morning, darling."

Vowing to protect him from himself and from others, she left the room, the word darling still lingering in her mouth.


	2. An Accidental Meeting

This wasn't written as well as I wanted. Oh well, I still like the way it turned out. A second oneshot! A monderized version of when Tomoe and Kenshin first meet, still going along with Assimilation (all oneshots will).

I don't own RK.

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An Accidental Meeting

"…and last night there was another killing," said the woman on the TV, standing in the rain with a microphone in front of yellow crime tape. "The police believe it was another assassination done by Hitokiri Battousai, isn't that right, Hachiro?" The screen split into two, the right side now displaying a man behind a news desk.

"You're right, Keiko," he said, flashing the camera the smile that was mandatory for the job. Inside the bar was silent, everyone's attention focused solely on the television hanging in the corner. Yukishiro Tomoe was no exception. "The police have assured all of us that they're launching into a full investigation on the case. The man in question was Masami Haru, a hard working politician of forty-seven and his six heavily armed bodyguards. His two daughter and his wife are grieving. To all families who have lost their loved ones to the blade of Hitokiri Battousai, the police and government investigation department want you all to know that it's only a matter of time before he's caught. Is there anything you'd like to add to that, Keiko?"

"I would just like to remind everyone," said the woman, black hair sticking to her face as the rain pounded down around her. "to lock their doors and windows tonight. Kyoto is dangerous right now and we should all take precautions. The moment we can, we'll release the description of this Hitokiri Battousai. Now, onto other news…"

Tomoe turned away from the television, looking down at her glass. The chatter in the bar started again. She put her elbow on the counter and lay her cheek in her hand. _To all families who have lost their loved ones to the blade of Hitokiri Battousai_…Oh, Akira…what would he do, if he knew her intentions of coming to Kyoto? Would he be happy she was avenging him? That cruel murderer. He stole everything from her. _The police and government investigation department want you all to know that it's only a matter of time before he's caught. _Well, they wouldn't have time because he would be dead before they could.

The media said they had no description, but she knew it, to a point. Information on the killer was scarce. His employer knew how to keep a secret. A redhead, she knew. It was a rare sight. A cut down his left cheek, diagonal, where Akira had cut him. Short and skinny, though exact height was unknown. Age, unknown, but on the younger side. In her mind she had a very clear image of the man—someone around her age, twenty-seven, hair cut close to his head like a soldier, the cut standing out against his skin. His eyebrows would still be dark, for his hair would be dyed.

"Oh, hi, Kenshin," said the voice a waitress as she collected the plates the men and women at the bar. "What do you need? Oh, you have your face bandaged again! Is everything all right?"

"I was told to give this to you," said a young boy's voice and there was a crinkle of paper. An intake of breath followed.

After a moment, the waitress said, "This is from Ka—your dad! I wasn't expecting an message until Tuesday…wait here. Hey, Osamu, can you get this boy a soda while I get his dad an order?"

Tomoe looked up, slightly curious, as the bartender agreed, grumbling something about parents and their kids. Two men blocked her view before she could see anything.

"Hey, lady," said one of the man, causing her to sigh. "Come have a drink with us."

"I'm waiting for someone," she lied. In their drunken state, they didn't seem to register she said anything at all. "Go away." All three had guns at their waists, but that was common now, legal out of self-protection.

"We're Aizu's Ishin Shishi!" said the other man. Wow…they were even more drunk than she initially thought. "We risk our lives day and night for you middle class citizens!"

"Having a drink with us is the least you go do as a thanks," said the first man.

A sigh broke the conversation before they could say anything else. The boy's voice said, "Aizu works for the current government, idiots."

"What was that?" The man turned around. Tomoe peered around them and she forgot how to breath.

There…there he was. Oh god. No, she was wrong. She had to be. Then he disappeared from sight, dwarfed from the height of the two men.

"That's what I thought, kids should just stay out this. That was pretty close for him, wherever he went." Both men let out short barks of laughter but were cut off for a second time.

"You're right," said the boy. Tomoe jumped and looked to the side. The boy stood there, right at the side of the largest man. He didn't even reach his shoulder. The man went to pull for his gun but didn't make it far. Wait…was he stopped but the kid's _hand_? "It was close. If you'd pulled that gun out, I wouldn't be the one who would be in trouble." His voice was low, so that none but the two man could hear it. But Tomoe could…oh god. Please. Please let it by a coincidence.

"What?" the man said, taken aback. Then boy went on, still keeping his voice quiet. No one bothered to look over.

"Let me give you some advice: the war here's only going to get worse," said the boy. "Kyoto isn't a city meant for hypocrites. If you value your lives, run back to the suburbs."

With one last, frightened look at the small boy holding back the large man's gun, the two ran, slapping some money on the counter.

"Sorry about that, miss," he said. She nodded, unable to find her voice. He was small, so small. Then he turned around and walked towards the waitress as she reentered.

Tomoe finally let out the breath she'd been holding as she watched him. Because of how he and the waitress were standing, she had a full view of his face. A full view of the boy who may have just save her life, or at least her dignity. It was something a good person would do, not…not…

The boy had a baseball hat on his head, but it couldn't hide all of his messy red hair. He was small and obviously still a child, not even in his teen years. In truth, he looked about nine or ten, but that wasn't right. Twelve probably. Thirteen at most. His eyes, though still the right shape for his culture, were a gorgeous blue. The tee-shirt and jacket he wore were baggy on him. The waitress handed him a slip of paper which he put in his jean pocket. A glass of soda, probably Coke or Pepsi, was in his hand. For every part, he looked a normal kid, a child—but there was a bandage on his left cheek, covering all of it. He wasn't smiling. This boy wasn't normal and she was the only one who saw it, saw who he was.

Hitokiri Battousai, murderer of her fiancé, was a child.


	3. Bleeding Hands

This starts out sad but ends happy/funny. I'm really glad with the way this turned out. ORO!

I don't own RK.

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Bleeding Hands

Tomoe had been at the inn for a month and found it wasn't nearly as horrible as she'd originally thought; the rest of the staff was nice enough and the soldiers weren't as rude as she'd imagined (save a few). The only problem was that she rarely saw Himura during the day, just at night when he came back. Every day she waited for him, after the nightmares became so bad she couldn't stand trying to sleep anymore. And all the nightmares were the same—it was of the first night they met, when he tore that man in half. For some reason she could only sleep when he was there. Though she hated to admit it, she felt somewhat…safer when he was around at night and it infuriated her.

In the small bathroom down the hall, she heard the sink turn on. She lay there on her futon, wide away as she listened to the sound of the water running. Fifteen minutes later, though, it still hadn't stopped. Finding herself getting slightly worried (while also wondering why she bothered being worried in the first place), she stood and left the room. The bathroom door was ajar. The boy stood there, scrubbing hard at his hands, worse than usual. Blood was mixing with the water. With a jolt, she realized it wasn't a victim's blood at all—it was his. Quickly she went over as quietly as she could and pulled the washcloth from his hands. He jumped. If he hadn't noticed her, then he must have been _really _deep in thought. His hands were bleeding. Badly. He didn't seem to notice.

"What are you doing here, Miss Yukishiro?" he asked, voice flat, eyes dull as he pulled away from her. His arms dropping his sides, blood from his hands and the cut on his face dripping to the floor.

"I couldn't sleep," she said simply. Her gaze drifted downwards. "You should bandage your wounds, Himura."

"If I promise to do that after I finish cleaning will you leave?" he said, making a half-hearted attempt to grab the washcloth. She held it behind her back.

"No." She blatantly ignored the alarm bells going off in her head; no matter what his appearance, he was still a killer, a murderer, someone she had to take her revenge upon. But if that was true, why did she help him? "If you clean your hands anymore, you won't have any skin left on them."

"What?" He looked down, lifted his hands to his face and his eyes widened. "When did this happen? I-I thought you meant my face!"

Wait, he hadn't realized? There were areas on his small hands that were now no more than gaping holes. Wondering what the hell she was doing helping this person (she couldn't say man and it hurt to say boy) anyway, she sighed and took a dry towel from the rack. Maybe he'd kill her for this.

"Give me your hands," she said, digging through the cabinet until she found the bandages and disinfectant left there for the wounded soldiers. Realizing he still hadn't done it, she repeated, "Give me your hands. They need to be cleaned or you'll get an infection."

With a great deal of reluctance and a bit more wheedling on her part, he finally resigned and held them out to her. He winced horribly when the dry towel touched his injuries and pulled his hands away. She grabbed one and held it in place by the wrist. When she was done, she repeated the process with the other hand.

"This will hurt even more," she said as she held one of the cotton balls she'd dabbed with disinfectant. He looked at it warily. "Shouldn't you be used to pain by now?"

"You'd think so," he said so quietly she could barely hear him, "but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts. At most you don't notice it's there because you're too preoccupied. The only thing you really get used to is being hit."

He winced from the sting and looked down, fiery red bangs covering his face. She looked up from her work, keep her face impassive as she was filled with a growing suspicion. Maybe he was abused before this—it would certainly explain why he was so messed up. They fell silent. She went back to fixing him.

"Done," she said as she finished with the last bandage. "Holding a sword will be painful for a little while, but you should be fine. Just don't wash your hands for so long next time or this'll happen again. And if you get an infection with that many wounds on your hands, you might end with something serious."

"How do you know all this?" he asked.

She wondered if he would talk to anyone else this much or let them touch him—Katsura probably, since he seemed to trust him so much, and he might to talk to Iizuka if he considered the subject worthwhile. At most Okami. It was a pretty sad existence, she supposed, having only a small total of four people who didn't take a step back whenever you passed or preferred to sit close together in the dining hall rather than sit next you. To make it matters worse, only half of those four actually like him; the only reason she and Iizuka were nice to him was to gain his trust. Since he was just a child, no matter what his lifestyle, treating him like an actual person and not some blood-crazed demon was a simple way to take advantage of him.

"It's called common sense, Himura," she answered, leaning back against the sink so they were directly across from each other. "And experience."

"Kenshin."

"What?"

"That's my name: Himura Kenshin. Can you call Kenshin please, Miss Yukishiro?"

So that was his given name. Now that she actually bother to think about it, she _did _remember him being called that the first time they met by that waitress at the bar. But if she were to call him Kenshin…

"Then you have to call me Tomoe, not Miss Yukishiro. I'm only twenty-seven and that sounds too old for me. Can you please call me Tomoe, Kenshin?"

"B-but you're an adult," he said. His face flushed slightly, turning his cheeks a light pink. Underneath the bandage, Akira's cut was probably bleeding even harder. "It would be rude to call you that."

"No, since I asked you to, it won't be rude. If you want me to call you Kenshin, then you have to call me Tomoe, got it?"

"O-okay."

How was it that this…boy in front of her was the top assassin the _world_, but he couldn't think of the right words to say to an adult? Well, he really was just a kid on the inside. Nothing could change that.

"I'm tired," she said. "So we should get out of here."

"Oh, you're tired?" he said, following her out. "You shouldn't wait up for me."

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm a big girl—I can stay up past eleven, you know."

He scrambled for words again. It was actually sort of cute to see him act his own age, like the kid she used to babysit when she was seventeen on Friday nights occasionally. A kid…oh god, she shouldn't have thought that. Couldn't she really kill someone younger than Enishi? Could she really kill a child?

"You don't have to, though," he said and looked at the floor, using his hair as a shield again. "I'm fine coming back on my own. I do it all the time."

"Last I heard, Okami used to stay up for you until you asked her not to. I don't care what you're job is; you're not even a teenager yet. And she would be absolutely horrified to see the state of your hands right now."

"Oro?" Immediately he looked up and slapped both his hands over his mouth.

After a moment of staring at him in shock, she began to laugh harder than she had in ages. The look on his face was one of utter mortification. This was…it was hilarious! Who knew that a sound that adorable could come out him? Himu—Kenshin was just filled with surprises.

"H-hey!" he said, face now bright red. "I-it's not that funny. I meant 'what', that all, umm, umm, uh…"

When she'd finally calmed herself down, she turned him, still grinning. "What _was _that?" she asked, holding down another fit of giggles.

"I haven't done that in a while," he said, still looking completely humiliated. "It's just something I used to do as a kid. That's it. Just pretend it never happened."

"I'm sorry, I can't," she said.

"Um, um, goodnight, Miss Yuki—I mean Tomoe!" He gave a slight bow and turned around to run away.

"Wait, Kenshin!" she said, unable to stop herself despite knowing that his katana was at his side and he could potentially kill her at any moment—but by now she realized he never would.

He turned, still looking embarrassed and she reached out and poked his stomach.

"Oro!"

She burst out laughing again as he ran away without another word and back to his room. She barely noticed when Okami came up next to her.

"Oh, um, hello," she said, quickly composing herself and trying to stop her mouth from twitching into a random smile. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

The woman yawned into her hand and said, "No, I was up already. Though I don't go talk to him anymore, I often wait up for the boy to make sure he's okay. I was about to get up when I heard that you did. What's so funny?"

Another little giggle escaped her. When was the last time she'd laughed this hard? Not for a while, she was sure of that. Probably not since high school with her friends. "Did you know he says 'oro'?" She found herself laughing again. Surprisingly, Okami joined in.

"I know," she said with a smile. "Katsura hit him on the side once and he squeaked it. It was back when he was ten. We teased him for the next week."

"But it's so—so—cute. I don't know how else to put it!"

"It really is."

Together the two woman laughed at the expense of the poor little redhead hiding out in his room. Ah, life was grand.


	4. Realization

This one sounds really rushed, for some reason, which annoys me, but oh well. I hope you enjoy. =] The idea this came out of is very strange...

I don't own RK.

* * *

Realization

There was a sick beauty to it, a violent grace that only came from talent and years of practice. He moved like a dancer caught in a horror movie, the kind she loved as a teenager. But no amount of blood and gore on the screen could have prepared her for the real thing—prepared her for the sight of his katana effortlessly breaking the man's gun before he could fire, slicing through skin, bulletproof vest, and bone, his small face blank as his eyes glittered yellow. Impassive, indifferent, nothing like a horror movie villain.

He stood in front of her, using himself as a shield, deflecting bullets with the blade of his katana, controlling it with only the lightest flicks of his wrist. The moment one of the policemen came forward, they were dead before they realized they'd run straight to the doorway of Hell. There was no mercy; he didn't discriminate. Even when the woman officer came towards him, he didn't bat an eye, just sliced through her like paper. Eight officers were dead. Only the lead man was left. He raised his gun to shoot, at least twenty paces away. Tomoe felt, rather than saw, the small body of the killer move, too fast for the human eye. The man was bifurcated before he could scream, the two halves of his body lying next to each other. Blood was splashed across the bridge, coating it in patches of red.

Kenshin was completely clean.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said lightly, almost bored sounding. Immediately she lost sight of him again. Hands suddenly wrapped around her and a gun was place to her head. When Kenshin stopped moving again, he was barely two meters away.

"Any closer and I'll shoot, Battousai," said the officer, holding her as she struggled. Her valiant efforts were rewarded by the gun being pressed harder against her temple.

"What do you want?" asked Kenshin, exasperated. "I'm not going to leave a witness and I'm faster than a gun."

"Then you'll kill her, too!" Was he really stupid enough to believe that to get to him, he needed to go through her? Apparently he'd never picked up a newspaper. "I know how fast you are! If I go down, I'll bring her with me, kid."

To this he hesitated and Tomoe felt a small tendril of fear curl inside of her. He must have realized the same thing she did—this man was willing to die as long as he took something special away from his killer, too. And, of course, she was the closest thing around—his traveling companion.

"If I let you leave," said Kenshin slowly, "will you let her go and never mention you saw me?"

"You think I'll believe you?" the officer said frantically. Oh great, there was a crazy man handling her. Just what she needed. If she was going to be held hostage, couldn't it at least be by someone who was a bit calmer about it? "You'll chop me the to shreds the moment I let her go!"

"Okay, okay, okay," he said quickly. Was he panicking over her? A strange part of her felt almost flattered, despite the knowledge that in any moment she could die. "How about I put my katana down? Will that be okay?"

"Not buying it." The gun pushed harder against her head. This would cause a bruise in the morning. "I'll give you thirty seconds to decide, Battousai, before I pull the trigger. Though it's a shame to kill her…you're traveling with quite the good-looking girl."

Did he just insinuate that he wanted to rape her? By now Tomoe was praying to every god she knew that Kenshin would kill this man. In this world, she decided, there were some people who deserved to die and this officer was one of them. She was taking a shower the moment they reached the safe house, if they reached it at all. At this rate it didn't seem likely

"I thought of something, I thought of something," said Kenshin before the man could say anymore. Good, a solution. Maybe she could be able to take the shower. "If I put down my katana and you shoot _me _instead—" What? This wasn't a solution.

"Kenshin, stop, you don't need to do this for me!" To save her, he didn't need to pay _this _as a price. He ignored her.

"—will you let her go?"

There was a pause. Tomoe, of course, understood something an eleven-year-old couldn't—that if he died, that wouldn't stop the officer from doing _more _than killing her. But no, he'd get them out of this. _She _would, but unfortunately she was being held hostage. The perfect little damsel in distress. Too bad her knight in shining armor was a kid.

"Put down your katana," said the man. He did as told. "Hold up your hands and knocked it away."

Kenshin followed instructions, putting up his hands in the classical "I surrender!" pose and kicked his katana so hard that it was hanging very precariously on the edge of the bridge. This couldn't be good. The officer raise his gun. It was almost slow motion the way the bullet left the trigger, only centimeters away from Tomoe's head. It certainly wasn't slow motion, though, when there was the sudden spewing of blood and the small redhead hit the ground. The arm wrapped around her loosened slightly. It was easier than she expected to struggle out of the man's grip now and run over to her "son". Why she even cared that he lay on the ground, probably dead, was a complete mystery to her. Wasn't she supposed to _want_ him dead? Wouldn't it be easier for her, to have him die without needing to do it herself?

There was so little she understood these days.

"Kenshin!" she said the moment she was next to him, on her knees, heart beating wildly. She'd just let a kid die without trying to do _anything_. What kind of person was she? It didn't matter that he was the Battousai—he was still a child! Yes, that was the only reason she didn't want him dead. He was eleven. That was it. That was the reason. Probably. "Come, get up—"

He was gone. The moment she went to touch his shoulder he disappeared. She glanced to her side, only to find his katana wasn't there…No, there was no way he could—

"Sorry about that, Miss Tomoe," he said from behind her. She stood up and turned around. He stood there, clutching his side, face on the pale side, a strained smile on his face. "But I had to let myself get shot for it to be believable. I'm sorry if I scared you." She stared, incredulous, at a loss for words.

"Never do that again!" she said once she found her voice. "What a stupid move you just pulled! You could've gotten yourself killed, Kenshin."

"I'm sorry, but it was the only way I could think of make him let you go. And we should probably get out of here before any more police officers come. Iizuka said he'd pick us a little bit past here to give us the car so that we can drive to the safe house, remember?"

She hugged him, completely ignoring what he said. Of course she was worried about more police coming, but right now she needed to reassure herself that he was, indeed, alive. He stiffened. The blood spilling from his side had gone through his fingers and was making her shirt wet. After a second or so, he pressed his face her shoulder and reached his free hand up to hug her back.

"I'm going to have do this in public from now on, aren't I?" he said, voice muffled. She smiled slightly.

"Either that or you can whine and complain about being a big kid," she said and let go, taking his hand and pulling him gently along. "And remember to call me 'Mom' in public too."

"Okay…Mom." He made a face and she realized it probably out of the unfamiliarity of the word. He coughed.

"We'll bandage that in the car."

"Okay."

The car Iizuka was drive pulled up to them as they walked a short while later, slowing until it pull to a stop on the side of the road. He stepped out, eyes immediately going to Kenshin's side.

"You're bleeding."

"I've noticed."

Iizuka sighed. "Fine, I'll make this quick so you can bandage yourself up in the car. Tomoe, here're the directions to the safe house and the key. Your things are in the car, medical equipment included. Those are in the backseat along with the clothes I think. Kenshin, I'll call and give regular updates. I'm not sure how long you'll be there. Tomoe, you're taking on his last name."

"Is Katsura okay?" Kenshin asked and shifted his weight, causing him to wince. She put his arm around his shoulders. Iizuka raised an eyebrow, so she shrugged.

"He's fine, kid. Now you better get in the car and fix yourself before you go on and bleed to death."

"How're you getting back to Kyoto?"

"I'm not," Iizuka answered, holding open the car door for them. "I'm heading out to my sister's. She doesn't know I'm involved in any of this, so it'll be safe there."

Tomoe slid into the driver's seat and shut it behind her. A moment later Kenshin got in from the passenger's side and slid off his shirt. She stopped him before he could look for the supplies in the back, though, instead doing it herself so that he didn't have to turn around. The amount of blooding coming from his side was frightening—more than she thought would ever come out of him. They sat together in silence, twenty minutes before either of them spoke.

"Thanks," he said, pulling on a new shirt, cringing at the pain reaching his arm out had caused. "I, um…"

"It's fine, Kenshin," she said as she pulled back out onto the road. "Just do me a favor and never get shot again."

"Sorry."

"You should get some sleep. You look exhausted."

Surprisingly, she received no complaint. Instead he adjusted himself so his head was against the seatbelt and shut his eyes. She pulled out onto the main road, mingling with all the other cars. Sometime later his breathing evened out and he was actually asleep. She glanced at him, at his innocent face, its only mar the single cut down his left cheek. His red hair was splayed over his eyes almost artfully. At small smile tugged at her lips and she realized something; Kenshin wasn't a killer at all.

He was just a kid with dreams.


	5. Mom

WARNING TO THOSE WHO READ WALKING: Information spoiler alert. Read at your own risk. Oh, and you can totally tell I'm obsessed with history in here at one point. It's my all-time favorite quote. And mind, I have many favorite quotes. And I wasn't sure how old Enishi would be...it would be how old he was in the manga minus three years, but I couldn't remember his age.

I don't own RK.

* * *

Mom

When Tomoe got out of the shower on Friday morning, Kenshin was already up, making breakfast for her—she knew it was for her since he generally didn't eat breakfast, only lunch and dinner. The kid really needed to eat more. Oh well, she wouldn't force him. At least she didn't need to buy large amounts of groceries. He probably wouldn't eat a lot as a teenager either, which seemed bizarre to her—a teenage boy not eating a lot. Enishi always did. Still did, in fact, and he was nineteen now.

"'Morning," she said with a yawn, ruffling his hair when she reached him and looked down at what he was making. "That looks good."

He looked and smiled widely. "Thanks. It's done, now, I was just making sure it wasn't too hot."

"I have no idea how you can stand to wake up this early," she said as she served herself. Kenshin went and sat down. She joined him a second later. "When I was your age I was able to sleep past nine. By the time I was fifteen, I could sleep past eleven."

"I was never allowed to sleep past sunrise unless I was sick," he said, "so I'm used to not waking up late."

"Why weren't you allowed to sleep past sunrise?"

"Well, when I was a really little kid, I used to wake up with the sun. By the time I would've grown out of that habit, I was already living with my master who _made _me wake up at sunrise."

"Sounds harsh."

He shrugged. Tomoe blew on her food before putting it in her mouth. As usual it tasted amazing. For an kid, he was certainly a good cook. They ate in silence. For the first time it was Kenshin to break it rather than her.

"Hey, Mom—" He paused, then his face flooded with color, the same way it did whenever he made slip-ups (such as his adorable 'oro'). "I'm sorry, I, um…"

She gave a smile. "It's fine, Kenshin," she said. "I don't mind. It's actual somewhat nice."

"What do you mean?"

"I've wanted a kid for a while. Of course, it never ended up happening. So it's…nice, I suppose, to hear someone call me Mom."

He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "You're kids would've been lucky," he said. "You'd make a good mom."

"What was your mom like?" she asked before she could stop herself. When he looked down at the table, though, hair in his face, she realized it had been a very personal question. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine," he said and gave her a fake smile. He was normally better at pretending. It must have really rattled him, which made her feel even worse. "It's just…well, I haven't lived with my parents since I was four. How to put my family situation back then? Well, when I was four I was kidnapped. It's a long story and I actually can't tell you all of it because I don't fully remember." He was kidnapped? And at the age of four…wait, that was the year a very large number of children from three to seventeen where taken by a cult and used as slaves to the members! She remembered seeing that on the news when she was in college. He was _part _of that? No, Tomoe, don't jump to conclusions. "To make a long story short, they never bothered to look for me."

"How do you know that?"

"You, well, you probably know what I'm talking about." She nodded; apparently she was right (oh god), so there was no reason to say she didn't. "All the other kids there had their faces shown on the TV and on milk cartons at school, under Amber Alert. I was the only one whose parents never sent in a picture. They didn't care enough to."

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, Kenshin, I didn't know."

Looking down at her food, she realized she was right when she thought maybe he had been abused as a kid. There was an article released on the incident after the entire group, slaves, cult members, and the ones who killed them in the first place were all found dead, the one responsible never found. From the surviving cult members who hadn't been in the attack, the police found out that many of them beat the children in truly terrible ways. The news had described it as 'a horrible shadow that has fallen on the pages of Japan's history'. For a while you couldn't pick up a newspaper without seeing a story about it.

"It doesn't matter, I barely remember them," he said, looking out the window. "What about your parents?"

"My mother died when I was seven," she answered, finishing up her breakfast, "giving birth to Enishi, my little brother. She was a very kind woman who used to tell me Greek Mythology instead of normal bedtime stories and taught me how to read and write at a very early age. She always wanted the best for me. My father was much the same, though he wasn't sure how to deal with me when I reached my teenage years. We got by, though and we were never on bad terms. When all this is over, I'm going to visit him again."

"I'm sorry," he said and took her bowl to wash before she could do it herself. "It's because of me you're here in the first place. You could leave if you want. I'll find somewhere else to go."

She didn't answer at first, instead getting up and going over to him, where she gently took the bowl from his hands to dry it.

"And miss hearing you call me 'Mom'?" she said, giving him a one armed hug. He grinned, which caused her to smile again—it was her favorite sight, she decided. It was as rare as her smiles used to be, which only he seemed to be able to bring out now. Now she smiled all the time. "I don't think so." She sighed. "Don't worry, Kenshin, I like it here…and I actually want to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"I…" How to approach this? Outright, she decided, was the best. "Well, when this is all over, all of it, and you don't need to kill anymore and everything is as it should be, I was wondering if you'd like me to officially adopt you."

His eyes widened and he looked up at her. God, he was so small. Eleven, and yet he was barely taller than the nine-year-old boy who lived down the street. Maybe it was malnutrition at a young age that did it…she wouldn't be surprised to hear his "owner" hadn't fed him.

"S-seriously?" She nodded. "B-but why? Aren't you only here because Katsura asked you?"

"Somewhat, yes." His gaze shot back downwards. It made sense, though, now that she knew about the whole…slave incident. It would explain his twisted mindset and the way he acted around others, especially around adults. The lack of talking, the shortage on any outward signs of happiness, how he looked at the ground, did everything the first time he was told, creepishly obedient…it all made sense. How horrible. "But, well, I do mean it, Kenshin. I'm honestly asking to adopt you."

"I thought that you didn't like me!" he blurted out, then covered his mouth with his hands. For a moment she stared at him, wondering what the hell gave him that idea—mind, at first that was true but within two weeks of meeting him, that dislike had been torn to shreds no matter how much she hated to admit it at the time. "So…you really don't mind me?"

"Mind you?" She laughed. "Kenshin, I wouldn't be offering this is I _minded _you. What gave you that idea?"

"Well." He shuffled his feet back and forth, embarrassed now. "It's just most people don't or the only reason they're nice to me is because they're afraid of me. I mean, I think that a few people really _do _like me, but I can't be sure…I know that Katsura and Okami like me and I'm pretty sure Iizuka does…" She felt a pang of guilt, knowing Iizuka only pretended to like him in preparation to have him killed. No, don't think about that right now.

"I like you," she said. "And at the moment, that's what matters, right?" A small nod. "But I'm asking you if you'd like me to officially be your mother. Would you like that?"

His thin face split into a smile and for the first time he hugged her without her having to do it first. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'll take that as a yes." He nodded against her shirt. "You realize you'll have to go to school, don't you?" Another nod. The grin on her face softened. "Maybe, though," she said, almost as an afterthought, "we should move out of the country. By then you're face would be known…if you could go anywhere in the world, honey, what would it be?"

"I've never thought about leaving Japan," he said, pulling away to lean against the counter. "I don't _know _anything else. Where would you?"

"To Boston, Massachusetts in America," she answered immediately. "When I was in college, I had a chance to do an exchange student program there, but I turned it down to stay with my father. I've always wanted to go there or New York, Pennsylvania…that general area."

"There was this American man during their Civil War," he said and she looked down, wondering how he knew whatever he was about to say. He knew many very strange, very random things. "Well, it was actual before it started. His name was John Brown, a Northerner, and he was completely insane, thought himself to be the next Moses or something like that. Anyway, he led a raid on an arsenal in Harper Ferry, Virginia along with group of men, all free no matter what their color, as an attack on the south. He said, 'Sins of a country cannot be washed away, but with blood.' He might have been completely out of his mind, but I always liked it."

_Sins of a country cannot be washed away, but with blood. _That sounded like the mindset of a certain someone she knew…

"That's very interesting, but why do you _know _that?"

He shrugged. "It's just one of those things you hear and pick up. Someone back in Kyoto said it as an example for this war. I remembered it." He looked out the window. "When do you think this snow will stop?"

"Hopefully in a little while," she said. "We need groceries. So what do you want to do?"

"I don't care."

"You're not very helpful."

In reply she got a shrug. She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's watch TV. Maybe something good's on for once. You're a kid, you must like at least _one _anime, right? And that's always on. The only other thing now-a-days in the news, it seems."

"I know all of two," he said bluntly following her into the living room, "Yu Yu Hakusho and a few Miyazaki movies."

"A Miyazaki movie is probably on. Well, go look for something while I make tea, okay?"

"Fine."

She paused, though, in the opening to the kitchen and the living room. "And Kenshin," she added. He turned around. "If you ever get kidnapped by a cult and forced into slavery, I promise I'll come look at you." For a moment he didn't do anything, eyes just widened in surprised, but then he started laughed. She joined in.

It felt good, she decided, to be a parent.


	6. Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Inspired by a 19 second youtube video. It's really short, like 900 hundred words only. To Leasley Gore's _Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows. _Creep. I suggest listening to that song as you read this.

I don't own RK or this song.

* * *

Sunshine and Lollipops

Tomoe ran her fingers through her wet hair—the wind was blowing so hard the umbrella was doing nothing to protect her from the rain. It was just kept hitting her full force on the left anyway. Now which way did the kid go? She had to make sure she wasn't right, see if the kid went home to a safe, happy family. Or at least some sort of family, since there was no way a kid with a safe, happy home life could have a face that impassive. After accepting that she had no idea where she was going, she took the a left. A little down the street, the song changed in an apartment that had been playing music all night.

If she ran into him, she ran into him. That was about all she could hope for at the moment.

_Sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, everything that's wonderful is what I feel, _

When the bullet went past her, it flew inches from her nose.

_when we're together, _

Slowly she turned, eyes wide, mind scrambling to catch up with her eyes, trying to understand the horror in the alleyway. It was an impossible sight, impossible, because these things didn't happen. This wasn't a movie, a scene like this shouldn't exist. But somehow,

_Brighter than a lucky penny, _

there was a man crouching on a rooftop, invisible to anyone who didn't know he was there. His gun was pointing down towards a boy, a boy who easily deflected every bullet with his katana, face impassive, eyes burning yellow.

_when you're near, the rain cloud disappears, dear,_

The man ran out of bullets. He hurried to reload, but the boy stood there, letting him, starting up with those big, blank yellow eyes. Before the man shot again, though, he paused, and said,

_and I feel so fine just to know that you are mine. _

"I'm surprised at you, Battousai, I thought you would have come up by now."

_My life is sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows,_

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. I don't feel like jumping today,"

_that's how this refrain goes, so come on, join in everybody! _

said the boy, his voice colorless. Tomoe stood there, frozen from fear and cold, holding an unhelpful umbrella as the man started to

_Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows_

shoot again. It had no affect—the boy kept deflecting the bullets. Finally, the boy

_everything wonderful is sure to come our way,_

said, "If that isn't working, you should come down here yourself."

_when we're in love to stay. _

After two more shots, the man seemed to deem this his last option and leapt down. A bad decision. Tomoe watched, horrified, as

_Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows, everything that's wonderful is sure to come our way_

the tip of the boy's blade slid through his head, then through his

_brighter than a lucky penny,_

body, all one fluid, flawless motion. And it ended, a little boy standing with a half a person on side of him, intestines strewn in between, but he was completely

_when you're near, the rain cloud disappears, dear,_

clean. For the first time his eyes flicked up, the bright yellow nothing like the blue she'd seen earlier, and her insides

_and I feel so fine just to know that you are mine. _

turned to ice. His eyes, they were devil's eyes, and in the back of her mind she wondered if she would be sent to

_My life is sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows, _

Heaven or Hell.

"You saw me."

_that's how this refrain goes, so come on, join in everybody!_

"You…you made the rain bleed..." Cautiously he stepped around the mess of blood and organs surrounding him. Every instinct told her to

_Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows,_

run, so why wasn't she running? Underneath his bandage was bright red and a trickle of blood was coming out from the bottom, mingling with the rain.

"You're…hurt…let me…

_everything wonderful is sure to come our way, _

help you." She took a step forward and stumbled. The shock was getting to her. His eyes widened and his katana

'_Cause you're in love,_

clattered to the ground. Her vision was beginning to recede and she fought hopelessly to stay conscious.

_you're in love,_

When she fell, the boy moved to catch her. And right before she passed out, she felt

_and love is here to stay!_

thin arms catch her.

In the apartment above, the music stopped.


	7. Sleazy Motel Rooms

Hi! Okay, I've started taking requests because I want to write more oneshots and couldn't think of anything. Someone suggested fleeing to Otsu. So I took that idea and realized it needed something else-and well, here you go. This is the something else.

I don't own RK.

* * *

Sleazy Motel Rooms

"It isn't the best room in the world, I know," said Tomoe, sitting down on one of the beds. The mattress was hard and uncomfortable and she dreaded the idea of sleeping on it. Kenshin rubbed one of his eyes and looked around the room. His face had yet to regain its color from earlier that day. "We'll have to deal with it for now, though."

He shrugged, which she assumed meant he didn't care. Apparently it was one of those times where he felt like communicating with motions and not words. Though she hadn't known him too long, she'd learned a few things about him, this being one of them. When he got tired he did one of two things: He barely spoke at all or he said a lot more than usual. Apparently now was one of those times when he didn't feel like talking. Oh well, that didn't mean she couldn't talk to him. And she was so bored talking was the only entertainment she had.

"Does you side hurt?" she asked, indicting the bullet wound with her hand. As expected, he shook his head. "Well, tomorrow let me have a look at it just to make sure. I don't want it to get infected."

A nod. Nonverbal responses weren't exactly to her liking, since she traditionally didn't like talking either. She was always she shy girl in high school who would rarely talk to people other than her classmates and friends. And even the classmates she sometimes avoided. Some of them were downright weird and she could never imagine how a conversation would go with them. So she avoided them and their conversations, but here she was talking the Kenshin with more words than she liked. And he was far weirder than any of her classmates could ever dream to be.

"Can you pass me the remote, please? I'm sorry, but you're closer," she said with a sigh, knowing that after a while it would be talking to a wall. Leaning down, she untied her shoes and put them beside the bed. The remote was placed next to her. Looking up, she saw her little roommate sitting on the bed across from her. "Do you like anything in specific? I could check."

Even as she was say it, he was shaking her head. Inwardly sighing, she hit the power button.

Immediately they were met by a wave of static that made her wince and Kenshin's hands fly to his ears. Quickly she turned it off and looked at him, worried. Of course his hearing was sensitive—being a swordsman generally sharpened awareness, apparently. Or so she heard and she assumed it to be true. He slowly took his hands away and let them fall to his side.

"Are you all right?" she said and he nodded, though now he looked a bit dazed. "Are you _sure_?" Another dazed nod. "Oh, come here, I'm checking your side now."

For a moment he did nothing, just looked confused, and then he walked over. When she told him to take off his shirt, he did so without compliant, which seemed odd. Generally she got the whole, "Oh, I'm fine!" from him. And it infuriated her. He was such a typical boy sometimes. As she thought it would be, the wound was still bleeding under the bandage. She'd have to redo tha that soon. Now, of course, it made sense why he took it off without any form of struggle—whether he realize it or not, he probably wanted her to take a look.

"It's going to keep bleeding for a while, I think," she said, running her fingers through her hair. Though she hated to admit she, she was worried. _It's only because he's eleven_, she told herself again and again. It was a mantra of blatant denial. "How about you go to sleep for a little longer? I'm going to get some more bandages and our clothes for tomorrow from the car."

He gave yet another dazed nod before climbing onto his bed. For a moment she thought he was going actually lie down and sleep (that would be a miracle), but instead he curled up against the headboard, in sitting position. She wouldn't yell at him for his habits, even if they were probably bad for him. Most likely he was missing his window seat back at the hotel in Kyoto. And it didn't help that he couldn't sleep with his sword. It would arouse suspicious. At least she could carry a gun, which he somehow knew to shoot if worse came to worse and got to him before he could get his katana.

Shaking her head, she went outside (after putting back on her shoes, of course), shutting the door quietly behind her. The key to the room was still in her pocket. She just hoped that no one had followed them and went in there while she was gone. His reflexes were quick, yes, and he'd wake up in an instant, but it would still be dangerous. Without his katana on him and the gun on the end table that he couldn't reach in one grab, he was close to defenseless. He was a tab to small for that to be—

_But why should I care_? she thought again, frustrated with herself now. Last she checked, she wanted this kid dead and having someone else do it would make the job easier. Then she wouldn't have that type of blood on her hands.

The car was in the parking lot, in the spot directly below the room, since they were on the second floor. She climbed down the stairs, still feeling a bit panicky, and pulled the keys from her back pocket. Then she clicked the open button and rushed over, opening the back door where the majority of the things were. For some reason Iizuka felt the need to ignore the truck. Food was back there, in a cooler, which was generally what normal people put in the backseat. Along with that was Kenshin's katana wrapped in cloth and stuck in one of those bags that usually carried golf clubs. But whatever, now was not the time to think of the man's weird packing ways.

As she told the boy in the room that she would, she grabbed a pair of clothes for each of them to change into the next day and more medical supplies. Really, that bullet wound needed to be checked out. She should've done this earlier. Though the bullet hadn't lodged, the supposed graze was pretty deep. If he was normal boy, a normal person, he most likely would've cried. But when could he ever be counted as normal?

So she pulled the room key out of her front pocket, stuck it in the lock, and opened the door. She almost announced her reappearance so that she could fix him up, but she stopped herself. He was most definitely asleep now (which was pretty quick) and shivering. Naturally, the blood loss lowered his body temperature. His face was horribly colorless. This really wasn't good. She'd give him another half an hour before waking him. Then she'd make him take a shower so that the wound was cleaned out. It would hurt, but he'd have to deal with it.

"I feel like an actual mother," she said under her breath, annoyed, as she pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser. As expected, there was a blanket down there. It looked a little dirty, but that was to be expected too; this wasn't the nicest place around.

When she covered his shivering body with it, he didn't wake up, which worried her. Generally he jolted awake in an instant. And the simple fact that he was shivering was bad, because it wasn't exactly cold outside or inside. Sure, she had the fan on, but it wasn't doing much. It was one of those September nights that took a desperate attempt to hold onto the last of summer's heat before turning into the coolness of autumn. Outside the leaves had already begun to change. Tomorrow was supposed to be hot as well, around thirty-two degrees. After covering, she turned off the fan. It would be uncomfortable for her, but it would be better for him. And considering the condition he was in, she figured that was a bit more important.

_But why do I care? Why should I care? No, I shouldn't care! I don't care! _she thought and flopped down on the hard mattress. This was such a bad motel, but it'd been right there.

Her entertainment for the next half hour was watching the clock. It was about all she could do. If she turned on the TV, the static would kill her ears and wake him up. The radio looked like it was from the sixties. She'd left her book in the car. The ceiling was gross to look at, as were the walls. There was literally _nothing _to do besides watch the clock, which occasionally blinked. What a sleazy place.

Finally, finally, finally the half an hour was up. She practically sprang off of the bed. Sure, while he showered, she wouldn't have anything to do either, but it didn't matter. Quietly, she sat down on the bed next to him and tentatively touched his shoulder. He was still shivering. Gently she shook him, which caused him to blink sleepily and turn to her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked and pulled blanket up to his chin. She shook her head.

"I want to check your wound, but first you should take a shower and wash it out with soap. It'll hurt of course, but it's necessary."

He nodded and stood up, stumbling slightly as he stepped off the bed. Really, it was such a stupid move to let himself get a shot. Then again, she supposed she should be thankful; she wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for that. Though maybe if he was a little older and had the mind of someone a little older, he might have thought of something else.

She settled back on the bed, ready to watch the clock for a little longer. She heard the bathroom door slid open. After that there were no footsteps and the scraping of the door against the floor stopped.

"T-Tomoe!" he said and he sounded absolutely terrified. She shot up and whipped around more quickly. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes wide and petrified looking. "Um—um, ah—"

"Ken—" she began, alarmed. Apparently hearing her voice snapped him out because he slammed the door shut and in a moment was right next to her, shaking violently. That couldn't be good for the wound. "What's going on? Kenshin, _what's going on_?"

She got no response, just a wide eye look up at her. Whatever happened really, really scared him. On an instinct born from practically raising Enishi on her own, she put one arm around his shoulders. Instead of tensing he leaned against her, curled up in a little ball.

"What did _see_?" she asked, truly confused. There was no way he would act this way about a _person_ being in the bathroom, so that obviously couldn't be it. This was fear she was seeing right now and she didn't think anything could scare him.

"Sp-sp-spiders!" he said. An uncontrollable shiver went up her spine. "Th-three of them! They were r-really big!"

"You're scared of spiders?" she said, trying not to shake as well. She wasn't exactly a fan either. As a child she was trained to be afraid of them—every time her mother saw one, she'd scream and get her husband to kill to it. So it was all her mom's fault that she was now freaking out too. "How are you scared of spiders?"

"They have eight legs and move creepily and skitter and-and bite and it hurts and so they're just creepy." His eyes were still huge.

Now bad images were forming in her head, images she was sure were forming in his too. What if, when they fell asleep, the spiders crawled under the doorframe to their beds? What if, when they woke up, the spiders were right there next to them? What if they were on them? No, this wasn't good. There was no way they'd be able to sleep and they both needed it. And he still needed that wound checked. She couldn't do that while glancing at the bathroom every ten seconds.

Stupid sleazy hotel rooms.

"Let's get out of here," she said, picking up their second pair of clothes and the bandages. Luckily she hadn't taken her shoes off for the second time. He nodded shakily. When she moved to stand, he moved with her, still cowering. Of all the things she expected him to be afraid of, it wasn't this. And she never thought they'd be afraid of the same thing. "Come on, we'll pay at the front desk and leave. I'll change the bandage in the car."

Together they left, letting the door close behind them. For a moment she debated on not paying at all—they were already criminals, technically. Besides, there were no security cameras and the front desk was on the other side of the building. But no, regardless of their current outlaw status, she wasn't the kind of person who wouldn't pay. Hell, she'd never even done a dinner ditch when almost all her friends in high school had. So yes, they would pay.

"Why are you afraid of spiders?" she asked the still trembling boy. He looked paler than before, if that was possible.

"Don't want to talk about it," was all he said, arms around himself. Okay, that sentence was never a good sign.

"We'd like to pay for our room now," she said, going up to the front desk. A woman sat there, snapping her gum obnoxiously. Her hair was pulled back in a high pony-tail and some fashion magazine was held in front of her face. When she didn't look up, Tomoe said again, "We'd like to pay for our room now, miss."

The girl lowered the magazine and raised one eyebrow at them. "What's wrong with the room? You checked in an hour ago."

"It seems like there's an infestation of spiders that my son had the misfortunate of stumbling upon.'

She received an odd look. "But you're in room four o' six."

"Yes, we were. Now, miss, we'd like to pay and leave."

"The spiders were in room four o' eight," said the girl, ignoring Tomoe. "Damn, I must've got it wrong. Hold on, I'll have to call—oh, there you are, Joben!"

A man in a custodian's uniform materialized beside her.

"Oro!" Kenshin squeaked and scrambled to her other side. Glancing over, she saw the man was holding a bag of large, black spiders.

"How much is the room?" she said frantically, inching away as the girl said, "Oh! So, Joben, it turns out there are more in room four o' six. Third room this week!"

The man only grunted and threw the spiders in the wastebasket before walking away in the direction of their old room.

"Oh, don't worry, ma'am," said the girl, smiling happily, snapping her gum. "You were only in there an hour. You can go without paying. I won't charge you."

"Okay, thank you!" she said as she and Kenshin hurried away from the motel, leaving a mass of spiders in their wake.

Damn sleazy hotel rooms.


End file.
